


Stress Season

by transpeterp



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Dad!Tony, Irondad, Nothing serious, Peter Parker is stressed, is this me projecting all of my stress into my writing?, naaah, slight mentions of suicide, spiderson, tony is trying his hardest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-23 07:49:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17076293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/transpeterp/pseuds/transpeterp
Summary: Peter and Tony bond after Peter has a rough day at school.





	Stress Season

As Peter, tired and plagued with what most teenagers would describe as the urge to throw himself off of the Avengers tower, emerged with the surge of students streaming from the front door of the school, he looked down the line of parent-pick up cars, looking for the usual black car Happy picked him up with to take him to the compound, as he did most fridays.

He didn’t see it, and stepped to the side as to not get run over by anxious teenagers ready to leave for the next few weeks. The winter break fever that had spread throughout the school the week before was diminished this week due to finals, but now that they were officially over, the excitement of Christmas, New Years, and two whole weeks without school was surging through the schools.

Everyone, but Peter, who sighed angrily as he glared down the lane, looking for Happy. He sort of wished, somewhat selfishly, that he didn’t have to go all the way to the Compound. He was even staying the night, which sucked because all he wanted to do was curl up in bed and cry until he falls asleep.

But, no. He had a stupid fucking job as a stupid fucking superhero that he had to spend  
his first night of freedom for the rest of the year at, scouring the city for anyone doing something remotely illegal so he could pretend to be useful.

He wondered if Happy forgot about him. He would understand. If Peter knew himself he would forget about him, too. God, he was just such a fuck up.

He eventually sat down on the semi-icy front steps of his school, watching kids get into cars, get in their own cars, drive away, busses following. He sat there for upwards ten minutes before he seemed to be the only soul left at school. Teachers had begun walking out with students, even.

Just Peter, left abandoned at his school, sad, angry, and the feeling of crying building quickly in his blood. He could sense the tears to come, but they didn’t even dare to spill. Instead, he sat there stubbornly, ass frozen from the concrete, shivering in his sweatshirt.

Then, as if he really was forgotten and just remembered, a sleek black car came barrelling into the parking lot, right up to where Peter was sitting. Peter knew it wasn’t Happy’s car, but instead Tony’s. Which, for some reason, made him even more angry. This man owned a multi-billion dollar conglomerate and he was spending his friday before Christmas picking a sixteen year old up from school. Peter didn’t like to think of how much he was wasting Tony’s time.

Tony opened the drivers door and stood up on the side so he could see over the car at Peter, beaming widely.

“Hey, Pete! Sorry I’m late, traffic was horrible coming across the bridge.”

“You didn’t have to drive all the way here, Mr. Stark,” Peter sighed, not even trying to put on a happy persona. He couldn’t give a crap at this point. “I could’ve got the bus or something.”

“On the contrary, Mr. Parker. I actually wanted to drive all the way down here. Busses are fucking horrible, and I am not condoning you riding one like a peasant.”

“You know I used to ride the bus all the time, right?” Peter sighed, standing up and quickly scurrying to his car. If anyone saw him… God, he would be dead meat.

“Are you okay, kid?” Tony got down and got into the driver’s seat, watching Peter slam the passenger door a bit harsh, and stare out the window with an intensity Tony had never seen before. Anger. He was radiating it.

“‘M fine,” Peter said, voice obviously not sounding fine.

“Okay, then. Sure.” Tony began to drive, peeling out of the school and into typical New York traffic.

They sat in silence.

And more silence.

“Yeah, okay. I can’t take this. What is wrong with you? Happy always complains about how you are a chatterbox right out of school, and now you are the quietest I have ever heard you. What happened?”

Peter didn’t answer, just hummed in response and continued to stare out the window. The heater in the seat was warming his ass again, and he resisted the urge to snuggle down into it and cry his heart out right there right then.

“Parker?”

No response, because this was the moment Peter’s emotions decided to emerge, eyes almostly instantly becoming wet, tears pooling before Peter could even react.

“Peter?”

The first tear rolled, and Peter, whom was definitely known for being discreet, tried to brush it away without Tony seeing it.

He didn’t manage.

“Shit, Peter. Are you crying? What happened?”

 

Tony watched the boy unravel, unravel, and finally just break in front of him.

“Peter, please talk to me. I don’t… What happened?”

“Everyone fucking sucks. The world is a flaming piece of shit and I would rather jump off the highest building I can find then go back to that hellhole. I would rather put a fucking bullet in my head than face Flash Thompson again.”

The words, said with venom and acid practically foaming from Peter’s mouth, hung in the air of the fancy-ass car, and Tony’s mouth was half open with shock, sudden anger, and complete and utter sadness.

“God, Peter.”

Tony pulled off of the semi-busy road the first chance he got, subsequently into the parking lot of some out-of-business factory of some sorts. The car revved beneath them, buzzing with the heater, shaking both men furiously as they sat there in heavy silence.

“Mr. Stark, I…” Peter’s brain suddenly caught up to him, and through the steady line of tears that had begun making their way down his face and neck, he looked mortified. “I’m so sorry. Today has been so stressful, I had an AP World final and completely bombed it, then Flash was being a dick, which isn’t new but like my head really hurt so it was just annoying. God, I just cussed you out and completely threatened my life in front of my boss. Shit. I’m so sorry. Seriously. I didn’t mean any of that, I promise. It’s just been a rough day. I promise I’m okay. Seriously.”

Tony sighed, turning to the boy, and placing a hand gently on his shoulder, hoping it was something of a comforting “father-figure” move. He wouldn’t know, he grew up without fatherly love. But that was another can of worms.

“Pete, considering you just said that through heavy ass tears, I don’t think you are okay.”

“I…” Peter seemed to really contemplate lying, but instead just sighed and held his hands up to his flushed face, hoping to wipe away some tears. It wasn’t very helpful in the long term, but it made his face feel cooler. The car was exponentially hotter than he would’ve liked now. “Sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry. Just… Talk to me about everything.”

“Right now?” Peter questioned, eyeing the billionaire suspiciously.

“Yes. Start with this Flash chick.”

“Okay…”

\--

 

They sat there for hours.

The sun had begun to set when both boys took extremely deep breaths in, Tony letting out a soft chuckle.

“That was an emotional night I was not prepared for, lemme tell you that.”

“So—”

“Sorry is removed from your dictionary Parker.”

“My condolences.”

The cheeky grin from Peter was worth the past two hours.

“You are a little shit, you know that, right?”

“Ooh, be careful there, Mr. Stark. I wouldn’t want Steve finding out that you talk to your mentee like that,” Peter let loose a smile, and Tony practically beamed back. There’s his Peter.

They pulled out of the parking lot, and Tony made a mental note to look out for Starbucks. He needed caffeine after that.

“I gotta ask something, kid.” Tony merged into traffic, which had sadly picked up since before, and glanced at the kid for a brief second. “Why do you call Steve Steve, Nat Nat, so on and so forth, except you seem to fight tooth and nail to keep calling me Mr. Stark? I don’t like Mr. Stark. It makes me seem old.”

“You a—”

“I will take the suit away if you say one more word about my age.”

Peter chuckled, and leaned back into his chair, shifting just a bit to get more comfortable.

“Well, I dunno. I just guess… since you were the one to ‘recruit’ me, and I am technically your intern/assistant… Tony just feels too… informal. I mean, I basically owe you everything that being Spider-Man has gotten me. Becoming an Avenger—”

“Honorary.”

“—helping the little people more, being recognized as more than a loser in a onesie—”

“You said it wasn’t a onesie.”

“—… it’s all because you believed in me. And yeah, maybe I would’ve been able to get there myself, but that wouldn’t have been nearly as fun. I mean come on. Without you I would’ve cried tonight by myself in my room, sad and forever alone.”

“I’m sure Ted would cry with you.”

“Ned. And, yeah, maybe. But this way I get to travel upstate and stay with some of the most powerful people on the planet. That’s cool.”

Tony smiled a bit, and got into the left turning lane to merge onto a different road that was getting closer and closer to the outskirts of town.

“That doesn’t explain why you don’t just call me Tony. It feels weird when your practical son calls you—”

Tony stopped himself, and Peter whipped his head towards Tony, eyes widening almost comically.

“Sorry what did you say? I couldn’t hear you.”

Tony bit his lip and suppressed a smile.

“Nope, you heard the slip up. Not repeating.”

“C’mon.”

“Nope.”

“Just one more?”

“No.”

“For my voicemail? That’s it.”

“Kid.”

“Fine, just on call with Ned.”

“Pete.”

“There! You never call me Peter! What is up with that, huh? You are getting all defensive that I never call you Tony, but you never call me Peter! Always kid, or Pete, or Parker. What do you have to say to that?”

Tony kept his lips closed and tried to bite back a smile. Which turned out just as well as you would expect.

“Jesus, kid. That’s a lot different.”

Peter just raised his eyebrows. Tony sighed.

“Fine. I will call you Peter, sometimes!, if you give in and call me Tony.”

“Fine.”

“Alright, Peter.”

“Tony.”

Silence.

Then, “Anthony Edward Stark.”

“Peter Benjamin Parker.”

More silence.

“You want Starbucks, kid?”

“Sure, old man.”


End file.
